


Incomplete Information

by LuckyDiceKirby



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, spoilers through TM20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 09:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12745986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDiceKirby/pseuds/LuckyDiceKirby
Summary: Fourteen confronts Open Metal. It doesn't go well.





	Incomplete Information

**Author's Note:**

> Getting in under the wire before TM21 comes out and maybe contradicts this. Also.........hey...I love Open Metal.

Fourteen has seen a lot of contracts in their life, even only including the ones that they remember. There’s a particular kind of satisfaction to it, usually, when Castlerose presents one: the knowledge of a job soon to be well done. 

Fourteen Fifteen does not feel satisfaction, looking down at Tender’s name, highlighted neatly in the middle of a discussion of terms. 

“I’ve been cutting you slack, Fourteen,” Castlerose is saying. “In light of...recent events. In light of your history with our organization. But there is only so much slack I can give you before it becomes just enough rope to hang yourself with.”

“I understand,” Fourteen says. It feels as if someone else is saying it. They wonder if that’s a consequence of the situation, or the new body, or the situation resulting in them being in a new body in the first place. “I understand. I’ll--I’ll take care of it. There’s just, um, one more thing. This Open Metal. I need to speak with her.”

Castlerose’s gaze is very heavy. “That isn’t how we operate.”

“No,” Fourteen agrees. “No. But I’ve never operated much like everyone else, have I?”

Castlerose sighs. She leans forward onto her elbows, looking Fourteen in the eyes. “That’s true. But I worry, Fourteen.”

“I know,” Fourteen says. “I know.”

“I can arrange a meeting. But I can’t guarantee it will be safe. Or that you’ll get whatever it is you want. What _do_ you want, exactly?”

Fourteen looks away. Castlerose had spoken, once, when they only barely knew each other, of upward mobility. Of Fourteen perhaps someday taking on the sort of leadership role that Castlerose has. It did not take a very long time for her to stop. To realize that the only place Fourteen Fifteen would ever live--the only place they would ever die--was out in the field. Fourteen is always moving forward, even--often--with incomplete information. They _are_ incomplete information. But this is something they have to know.

“Answers,” they say. They stand up. “Just give me a time and place and I’ll be there.”

-

As an assassin, Fourteen Fifteen’s style isn’t quite built on stealth. Usually the recon is someone else’s job. And perhaps this isn’t the best place to start, but part of Fourteen can’t help seeking out Tender. They never can quite help it.

It’s not because of the contract. It can’t be. Surely, surely, Fourteen would have known--

“Hey, are you alright?” Tender asks. Touching Fourteen lightly on the back. They have a briefing with Cascara in a few minutes, but Signet hasn’t arrived yet, so they’re just waiting in the kitchen. Fourteen flinches, and Tender pulls her hand back. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you not like to be touched in this body?”

Fourteen squeezes their eyes shut and shakes their head. “No, it’s not that. You only startled me.” 

“Okay,” Tender says, making no effort to hide the concern in her voice. She pulls out a chair and sits in it backwards, arms crossed over the back of it. Her ears twitch. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“It’s nothing,” Fourteen says. “You know how it is. Growing pains. Well, I suppose you don’t really, but it doesn't matter. I actually had a question for you, Tender.”

Tender puts her chin on her crossed arms, leaning forward. “Yeah?”

“Do you, um. Does the name ‘Open Metal’ mean anything to you?”

Tender nearly falls out of her chair, jerking forward. She manages to rear back in time to keep it from toppling over, tail flicking behind her. Her ears are pressed down flat. Fourteen wants, a little, to disappear. “What? How did you--why?” she asks.

“It’s just--something I heard, somewhere. Only, I can’t remember where.”

“Yeah,” Tender says, relaxing just a little. She sighs. “Yeah. Look, I--I’m sorry. I really can’t talk about this. She’s just--she’s someone I used to know. A long time ago. Before all of this.” Her tail is still moving. “I saw her recently. After Contrition’s Figure. It didn’t…” She laughs, sadly. “It didn’t go well.”

“I see,” Fourteen says. And Signet--kind as ever--chooses that moment to arrive, saving them both from further conversation.

After that, Fourteen looks to the Mesh for answers. Tender would be better at it, of course. The Mesh bends to Tender’s whims the way that weapons once bent to the Gunslinger’s, music to Worthy of Grace’s, arguments to the Body Politic’s. But Fourteen does well enough on their own. They figure out who Open Metal is.

Fourteen hadn't even known there had been a trial. Or if they ever had known it, they didn't any longer.

Signet might be able to help them find more details, but this is enough. It has to be enough, because if Fourteen is alone with Signet right now they don't know what they’ll do. Confess, probably. Signet has the sort of face that encourages confession. 

Maybe Fourteen would just cry. But they can't bear that thought either: Fourteen’s face pressed into her shoulder, Signet’s soft voice in their ear, her hand in their hair, not knowing what Fourteen is supposed to do. Must have agreed to do, in some other life they can't remember. 

Fourteen gets the call from Castlerose not long after. A time and a place. 

-

The meeting is later that night, in a small apartment above a bar, just beginning to come alive when Fourteen passes it. It's deliberately quaint enough that Fourteen is sure Open doesn't actually live here. They wonder if anyone does.

The apartment, when Fourteen enters, is sparse, done up more like a meeting room than anything else. Open is sitting in an armchair, cigarette in hand, facing away from the door. Saying as loudly as she can: I am not afraid of you.

Fourteen wishes they could say the same. 

“Um, hello,” they say. “I don't know what Castlerose told you. There's, uh, a few details of the contract I wanted to discuss.”

Open waves them in with the hand holding her cigarette. There's a chair across from her, but Fourteen doesn't take it. This body has a tendency to pace. Or perhaps Fourteen would do that no matter what, just now.

Fourteen ought to feel powerful, standing while Open sits. They don't.

“Discuss,” Open says, “or renegotiate?” She’s smiling. “I don't take well to renegotiation.”

Fourteen rubs the back of their neck. “I just had a question for you. It shouldn't take long.”

Open takes in a mouthful of smoke, breathes it out all at once in Fourteen’s direction. “Only the one?”

“Just one, yes.” Fourteen swallows. “I don't understand. Why do you want to kill Tender?”

Open only grins wider. “It's not your job to ask questions.” She stands and walks towards Fourteen, cape billowing behind her. “I know all about your little group. You and the _Beloved Dust_.” She rolls her eyes. “As I understand it, Fourteen Fifteen, it's your job to point your gun where you're told. You're overstepping.”

“Maybe," Fourteen agrees. "I know that things went badly between you. You and Tender, I mean.”

“Hmph. Tender tell you that?” She takes another drag. Circles around Fourteen, more like a cat than Tender has ever been.

“No. She didn't really want to talk about it. But I have my sources.”

Open narrows her eyes. "You're a little bit like Tender, aren't you. You think you understand so much. But you don't know anything." She shakes her head and laughs. “You’re right. About our last meeting, at least. But you’re wrong about why I put out that contract. I don't want Tender to die.” Open closes her eyes. There's an almost beatific look on her face, worshipful and terrible. “I want her to feel what I did. When I wanted to make her a goddess, and she told me _no_. When she got to keep that cyberbrain of hers, while mine was ripped away. I want someone she loves to betray her. And I always get what I want.”

“That's not really true, is it?” Fourteen asks. Feels themself walking on the razor thin edge between a conversation and a fight, their fingers twitching with it. This could still go either way. “If it was, you and Tender--you wouldn't be different people at all.”

The balance tips. Fourteen reaches for their gun when Open snarls, but not fast enough: she grabs them by the throat and has them pressed back up against the wall in only a moment. She takes Fourteen’s gun from their holster and tosses it across the room.

“You’re going to lecture me about getting what I want? What do _you_ want, Fourteen Fifteen? Hm? You don't even know who you are. You can't remember.” Open presses her hand down hard, cutting off Fourteen’s air. "You think you know just what you're doing, but all you can ever do is follow orders and pretend like you know what's going on. You're pathetic." 

Just as Fourteen begins to claw at her hand, feeling themself start to get lightheaded, Open lets go all at once. She steps back, letting Fourteen fall to their knees.

Fourteen drops their head. Breathes. “I do know who I am,” they say. “My name is Fourteen Fifteen, and I don't hurt my friends.”

And Open Metal laughs, her voice echoing horribly in the small space. “But you do,” she says. “You signed that contract, Fourteen. You signed it more than once. You think that just because you don't remember doing it, that makes it better?” She leans down, smile incandescent. “You've betrayed her already. What do you think she’ll say, when she finds out what you agreed to do?”

“I don't know,” Fourteen says. Voice small and rough. “I thought--it's a misunderstanding. It has to be.” They close their eyes. “I’m not going to do it. I won't. I can't.”

Open’s hand touches their chin, tilting it up. Fourteen blinks their eyes open. She isn't smiling anymore. “You will,” she says. “One day you'll wake up, and you won't remember why it was so important that you don't.” She leans down further, hand tight on Fourteen’s jaw. Gets in close enough to kiss. “I promise.” 

And then she's gone, on the other side of the room. She picks up Fourteen’s gun and tosses it to them. “Now get out.”

Fourteen fumbles their gun and goes. 

-

They meet up for coffee, and Tender’s eyes go wide when she sees Fourteen. They touch their neck self consciously. 

“What happened?” Tender asks when they sit down. She reaches out, waits until Fourteen nods before running a finger across the ring of bruises around their neck. Fourteen shivers. This body gets cold easily. 

“Oh, you know.” Fourteen gestures vaguely. They take a bite of their scone. “Work,” they say, through a mouthful of crumbs. 

“You will let Signet and I know if you need help with anything, won’t you?” Tender’s brow is furrowed.

“I will,” Fourteen tells her.

Tender sighs, and pulls the silk scarf she’s wearing from around her own neck. “Here,” she says, handing it to Fourteen. “Signet will throw a fit if she sees you like that.”

Fourteen takes the scarf and wraps it carefully around their neck. Finds themself unable to speak, for just a moment. Tender fills the silence: she always does. “Besides,” she says, “I figure you aren't getting many gifts from fans these days, huh? No more secret admirers?” She elbows Fourteen in the side, grinning at them conspiratorially. 

Fourteen looks down at their hands and feels themself smile. “No, not anymore. Thank you, Tender.”

Tender puts a hand on their shoulder. “Of course,” she says. “What are friends for?”

With effort, Fourteen smiles back. Under the scarf, their neck throbs.

**Author's Note:**

> is there a reason for Open Metal to smoke? no, probably not, but look, I'm very gay, so.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Incomplete Information](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977961) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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